


Darling, Don't Get Over Me (Get Under Me Instead)

by WelshWitch1011



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Filthy dirty smut, Mentions of Lincoln, Skyeward - Freeform, Ward redeemed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelshWitch1011/pseuds/WelshWitch1011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward redemption + a dash of angst + a lot of lovely Skyeward smut. Nothing more, nothing less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Head over heels but I'm feeling half past dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [little_angry_kitten18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_angry_kitten18/gifts).



> Although I had originally intended this to be a one-shot, things got slightly out of hand (if you pardon the pun.) It will therefore be a three chapter fic - think of them as pre-smut, smut, and post-smut. ;) 
> 
> This is pretty much AU from 2x19.
> 
> Sorry this has taken so long, Maria. I'll get to the dirty part imminently. Promise! 
> 
> Thanks to SlightlyTwistedSilverware for editing and pre-reading.

The floor of the gym groaned with the punishment currently being inflicted on it, and the unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin rang out across the room, punctuated by the dull thud of a body hitting the mat and a groan of exertion. 

Panting for breath, Skye stood back from her attacker and brushed the droplets of moisture from her forehead with her arm. She eyed him cautiously and adopted a defensive stance as he climbed to his feet and cast an approving gaze over his enemy. 

“Again!” she demanded, watching as he circled her in a predatory manner, his eyes never once leaving hers. 

“You sure?” he asked, his chest rising and falling quickly, signifying that he was just as out of breath as she was. 

“I’m not your rookie any more, Ward. I can take care of myself. So... Let’s go again,” she commanded, noting the dark sweat stains that were now marking practically every inch of his grey t-shirt. He lifted the hem of the shirt and casually wiped at his forehead, and Skye’s eyes darted to the hard muscles of his stomach as he did so. 

“Alright, but I’m not gonna go easy on you this time,” he teased, and she deflected his taunting smirk with a roll of her eyes.

“Whatever. Bring it, robot!” she challenged, noting the slightly sentimental smile that all too briefly settled upon his lips. 

“Okay but just remember, sweetheart... you asked for it,” he shrugged. The cocky smile he bestowed upon her succeeded in being both irritating and annoyingly sexy. 

Within moments they were sparring again, their bodies twisting and turning as they lunged and ducked; blocking and weaving, rolling and twisting out of the other’s path. They broke apart for a few moments and shared a smile, and as they took the opportunity to regroup and reconsider tactics, Ward dragged his sweat drenched shirt over his head then tossed it haphazardly to the ground behind him. 

Skye frowned as she found herself unconsciously licking her top lip, and she swallowed hard as she allowed her eyes to take in the sight of his broad chest without even a trace of guilt. She’d already caught him staring at her with the same silent longing, and she knew that the sports bra and tank top she was wearing did little to detract his eye. 

In the six months since Ward had rejoined the team, relations had very slowly begun to improve between the SHIELD agent and her former SO. Eventually her contempt for him had given way to playful sniping, which had in turn developed into a grudging respect and fledgling trust that almost made them friends again. Almost. But there was a part of Skye that couldn’t forget the pain of his betrayal - and she had come to realise that broken hearts sometimes take longer to heal than any physical wound.

It wasn’t like they’d started flirting with each other again; except that they had. 

The attraction that had always existed between them sparked and crackled furiously, not to be dampened by reason or old grudges - or even the disapproving eye of less-forgiving colleagues. They shared stolen glances and longing gazes, yet both were too afraid to consider what this meant to contemplate it for too long. 

Skye blinked as she suddenly regained her senses, and then she simply nodded as Ward cocked his head to ask if she was okay.

They resumed their places again, and another torrent of punches and kicks exploded between the pair. Skye found herself suddenly angry that she could feel him holding back. She’d put four bullets in his side, he knew she could hurt him, yet he wouldn’t allow himself to let go. His movements were controlled and measured, and her heavy handed blows grew increasingly clumsy the more annoyed she became. 

“Stop holding back!” she shouted, narrowed eyes locking his gaze in place, and suddenly she found uncertainty there. Taking a few moments to catch her breath, she added quietly, “I trust you.” 

He thought over her words for a moment and nodded slowly, and once again they were engaged in a round of hand to hand combat. Seizing her around the waist, Ward attempted to flip her over his shoulder, but within seconds Skye had slipped from his grasp and aimed a punch at his face that she knew he would block. Her leg swept out a second later, catching him off balance, and with a heavy thud Ward landed on his back to stare up at her with an approving smile whilst his chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. 

“I thought I told you not to hold back?!” She cocked her head, planting her hands on her hips. 

Before the weight of her glare had been worked to full effect, she found herself swept from her feet and rolled onto the ground, Ward’s body resting carefully above hers. 

“Who said I was done?” he countered, arching a dark eyebrow as he restrained her underneath him, his fingers curled around her wrists, which he held down against the mat with relative ease. 

Her eyes betrayed her surprise, and he watched her pulse hammer against the skin of her throat as she peered up at him. 

“Well, I had to let you take me down sooner or later... It was getting embarrassing.”  
She tilted her chin defiantly, surprised and a little appalled by the stirring sensation in the pit of her stomach, and she had to stop herself from staring at his lips. His breath was hot against her skin, and she closed her eyes momentarily as she tried to control the boisterous thumping of her heart. 

Ward laughed, deftly moving from above her and extending his hand to pull her to her feet. She muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and padded over to one of the chairs to snatch up her water, gulping eagerly from the bottle. The sensation of the cool water on her throat was soothing, but the weight of his gaze upon her was all too distracting and she screwed the lid back onto the cap and watched him approach her with a questioning smile.

“I was gonna grab a pizza... Maybe order in?” He shrugged, clearly testing the waters to ascertain the approximate state of repair their relationship was currently at. 

“You eat takeout?” she eyed him suspiciously, clearly not convinced on the subject. The old Grant Ward was annoyingly health conscious and not in the business of chowing down on junk food. “The Grant Ward I know is repelled by the cheesy, carby goodness of a Chicago deep pan.”

Ward gathered up his shirt and plucked a clean towel from the back of one of the chairs before using it to wipe off his neck and shoulders. “Maybe you don’t know everything about me?!”

Skye narrowed her eyes, sucking in a breath though her teeth as she pretended to ponder his words. “Yeah, see... That’s never been a good thing, Ward.” 

He tried to sigh indignantly, but his expression gave him away, and he offered her a genuine smile that he hoped in some way conveyed the conviction behind his words. 

“One day, you’ll trust me again... I promise.”

Skye held his gaze for longer than made her comfortable, and she noted how close they were standing at almost the same time that she noted her hand had somehow fluttered up against his chest. She bobbed her head slowly, hoping that this time it would be true; because she wanted so desperately to believe in him again. For one thing, it would make the almost overpowering urge to drag him to her bed that much more manageable and not wholly out of the question. And given the tension that had been between them for the last few weeks, that could only be a good thing. Or so she imagined. In her daydreams and deepest fantasies, it was a very good thing. 

An insistent buzzing promptly interrupted their silent staring match, and Skye’s cheeks blushed even redder as she snatched up the phone with a degree of irritation that didn’t go unnoticed by Ward. Recovering quickly, she began a stream of babble that reminded him of the girl in the van he had known a few short years before. 

Clutching her water bottle in her hand, she cast a glance at her watch and then up at the clock on the gym wall, as if hoping one would somehow buy her more time.

“Anyway, as much as I would love to watch you try to eat away that six pack with a Meat Lover’s Feast and mozarella sticks, I have a... thing tonight.”

“A thing?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest as he noted how uncomfortable she suddenly seemed to have become. 

“Uh, yeah. A... a date. I have a date,” she replied, hoping to sound buoyant at the prospect, but failing miserably, “so I guess I should go and shower. That’s good date etiquette, right?!”

His face fell at her revelation, and she noted just how crestfallen he had become with a pang of guilt. 

“That ‘Lincoln’ guy?” Ward guessed, having noticed the tell-tale glances the young medical student had frequently directed at Skye whenever Ward had had the misfortune to have to suffer through his company. He wasn’t sure how he’d resisted the urge to unleash his very specific skill set on the Inhuman, but he assumed the fact Lincoln Campbell was still alive meant that he was developing a degree of self-restraint. Although in that moment, he was regretting it bitterly.

“Yeah,” Skye nodded, directing her gaze to her feet as she avoided the heartbroken expression she knew she would find written across his features. 

“Right,” he said softly, stepping back and forcing himself to tear his gaze from her. She wasn’t his to look at, not any more, and the idea of her being with another man in any sense of the phrase brought a familiar and unwelcome burn to the back of his throat. 

“Okay, so... I should...” Skye began, ducking out of his way and walking toward the door, closing her eyes and trying to dismiss the nagging pain in her heart as she felt his eyes follow her across the room. 

She paused in the doorway and turned to regard him, noting how he looked momentarily hopeful at the gesture. 

“Maybe we can do this again tomorrow?” 

“Sure. Whatever you want,” he replied good-naturedly, although his smile did not reach his eyes.

He watched her leave with a deep self-loathing descending upon him that he knew his therapist would not approve of. But it was his actions that were to blame. He had pushed her away with his lies and duplicity - he was the reason she would never be his. Out of all of the numerous regrets he held, she was the greatest source of pain. 

Sometimes he believed they could have been truly happy, that she could have loved him almost as much as he knew he had grown to love her. And then he’d be reminded of what he’d lost, and he knew he loathed himself more than Skye or any of the team could possibly hate him. 

He could hate Lincoln, and of course he did. But it wouldn’t change anything. 

Ward walked toward the door and leant languidly against the wall as he watched her retreating figure, hardly noticing that Bobbi had strolled into the gym and was following the direction of his stare. 

Folding her arms across her chest, she shook her head pointedly, her tone conveying her ultimate pleasure at the truth in her taunting words.

“Never gonna happen.”


	2. Lend me your ears, let's leave some things unsaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had thought this would be a 3 chapter fic, but it turns out they had more to say than I planned so I've had to add a 4th. I'm afraid smutty times will need to wait for the last two chapters.  
> Sorry for the delay, real life has been kicking my ass!!

Three hours later and Ward emerged from the preferred solitude of his room, padding toward the kitchen in need of something to tempt his non-existent appetite.

He squinted as he entered the dimly lit living room of the Playground, relieved to find that none of his colleagues were around and he could brood alone.

Though he and Hunter had struck up a superficial friendship, and Fitz was slowly starting to tolerate being around him again, any interactions with Jemma were still fraught with tension. As for May, he wasn't wholly convinced that she wasn't still plotting his death, especially if the truly murderous glares she shot in his direction were anything to go by.

He and Bobbi tolerated each other - no more, no less. She sought Hunter's forgiveness just as Ward fruitlessly sought Skye's, yet she did so with the arrogance of someone who didn't believe they were truly in the wrong - which made her success at winning him back even more difficult for Ward to understand.

A deep sigh alerted him to the presence of another person in the room, and he narrowed his eyes as he tried to make out the figure sprawled on the couch. His eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he realised it was Skye, laying in an arguably comical pose with her head almost dangling off the couch and her legs crooked over the back of the head rest. She clutched a bottle of beer in her hands, balancing it on her abdomen as she appeared lost in thought.

"Skye?" Ward began quizzically, noting as he stepped closer how she was all dressed up for her date - the hem of her short, black and infuriatingly flirty dress riding up her tanned thighs, whilst her heeled shoes lay discarded on the floor beside a six pack of beer.

She didn't reply and instead fished blindly for the pack of beer, retrieving a bottle which she held out in his general direction. He took it from her, too curious at her current state to do anything other than frown in abject confusion.

"Come... Sit," she directed, staring up at her painted toenails as she wiggled her toes and twisted her lips into a tight line.

He perched on the arm of the couch, keeping a respectful distance, and his fingertips toyed with the serrated edges of the bottle cap as he wondered if he really wanted to know the answer to his next question.

"How was your date?"

She quirked a brow at the obvious disdain dripping from his words, and she rubbed one hand over her face as though trying to dispel her jumbled thoughts.

"Well, that implies there was a date. And you kind of have to go on the date for there to be a date."

Despite his utter contempt for the annoying, bland Inhuman in question, Ward felt a burst of anger simmering in his chest.

"The jerk stood you up?"

The implications of his insinuation were more than clear to the former hacker, and she smiled despite her misery as she noted his vaguely threatening tone.

"No," she rolled her eyes, once again running her fingernails down the sides of the beer bottle, chipping away at the soggy label with an alarming degree of focus. "I'm the jerk."

She paused, as if Ward should understand her inflection, but when she met his gaze she found his features clouded with nothing but confusion.

"Ughh!" she groaned, hiding her eyes beneath her flattened palm as she confessed, "I didn't go, okay? So I'm the jerk. I called it off."

He wasn't able to celebrate her revelation for long, however, as she suddenly - and with a degree of agility he found oddly arousing - manoeuvred her legs from the back of the couch and sat up beside him, her knees raised, exposing a flash of thigh and underwear that made him chivalrously turn his head.

"It's all your fault!" she accused, her jaw set angrily as she watched him recoil from her accusation with an indignant shake of his head.

He would, of course, allow himself to be blamed for many things but Skye's disastrous date night was not something he was willing to take the flack for. No matter how secretly pleased he might be with this turn of events.

"Uh..." he gestured towards her beer and enquired, "how many of those have you had?"

Skye held aloft her one solitary beer of the evening to signal her alcohol intake, taking a long, slow gulp from the bottle as she tried to quell her growing exasperation. Unfortunately, she wasn't wholly successful, and when she sought out his gaze again she seemed unduly annoyed.

"I was just laying here, contemplating the crap dump that is my life, and you know what I realised, Ward?" she glanced across at him pointedly, "you're an asshole."

Ward's eyes narrowed and he shook his head, clearly not understanding the reason for the tangent she now seemed to have wandered off on. He accepted that she still might feel that way about him but that was surely old news by now, not a new epiphany by any means.

"I get asked on a date by a guy who's... probably... maybe a good guy," Ward tried not to smirk at the clearly dubious expression that settled momentarily on her features, keeping an admirably straight face as she continued, "and all I can think about is you..."

Her tone grew more desperate, more defeated, and she averted her eyes as she felt the sting of tears about to give her away.

"And... how you look at me sometimes.. Nobody's ever looked at me like that before. I remember what we almost had ... And I want that. I want you, and... it pisses me off, because I shouldn't."

He couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze from her face, even smiling as he heard the wrath behind her exasperated expletive.

She exhaled a deep breath as she finished sadly, "I should hate you and I can't. Not any more."

Finally popping the cap on his own beer, Ward watched the bubbles rise to the top of the bottle as an uneasy silence descended upon them. He sat on the couch next to her and slumped down in his seat, finding that oddly enough it did aid with contemplation. It didn't, however, give him any clue as to what he should say in response.

"I could pretend to be sorry that you stood Sparky up, but we both know that wouldn't be true and I did make you that promise," he recalled, taking a sip of the pleasantly cold beverage and trying not to build up his hopes about where their conversation may be leading.

Skye curled her legs up underneath her and released a thoroughly miserable sigh as she fidgeted to mirror his pose. They sat side by side, heads lolled back against the upholstery.

Stripping herself of any bravado or facade, Skye held him in a lingering gaze and the sadness in her eyes made his heart ache. Slowly, a smile tugged at her lips, and by the time her eyes held his she felt strangely liberated by the truth. Quiet resignation suddenly embraced her, but it wasn't the frightening, smothering sensation she had spent the last few months fighting against. Instead, Skye felt an overwhelming sense of peace descend upon her.

She still loved Grant Ward and though she could deny it to her friends and colleagues, she couldn't deny her own, arguably misguided heart.

"Why can't I get over you?" Her tone was soft and contemplative, and she smiled as she saw that her question had taken him aback.

Recovering admirably, he simply smirked, his eyes blazing with affection as he shrugged at her and replied, "You could always get under me... "

Skye snorted with laughter, her lips pursed as she raised the bottle to her mouth and shook her head in genuine mirth. "Asshole."

Swallowing down a gulp of beer, she pointed the neck of the bottle in his direction and gestured toward him, "This guy? I don't know this guy."

Turning to face her, he let his gaze lift to her eyes as he replied softly, "Yes, you do."

She eyed him intently, resignation settling on her features as she stated with a degree of certainty she was surprised she felt, "So, the way I see it, I've go two options here, Grant..."

He smiled faintly at her use of his given name, remaining silent to allow her to continue on.

"Option one... I try to ignore this - whatever this 'thing' is between us - we see other people, and maybe one day you and I can be friends again."

Ward remained silent, although he knew instantly that wasn't going to be his favourite of the two options.

Skye took another sip of beer and continued.

"Option two..." she stopped talking suddenly, struggling to find the words she needed. Leaning forward, she placed her bottle onto the floor and inclined her body towards his. Deciding to use a more practical approach, she placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him down towards her, pressing her lips to his and taking him wholly by surprise.

The feel of her lips against his sent a jolt of electricity down his spine and he let the beer bottle fall from his hand as he reached toward her to grasp her waist with gentle yet insistent fingers.

But the weight of her decision soon caught up with him, and he found himself doing something he never thought he was capable of; he pushed her away.

"Stop. Please..." he rasped, wondering if she knew just how much strength and willpower it had taken to still her kisses.

Skye kept her hands on either side of his face, her thumb brushing tenderly over his cheekbone as she replied honestly, "I can't."

"Why?" he asked, the hope in his heart trying to quieten the guilt and regret that was threatening to overcome him. She gazed up at him fondly, and his heart fluttered helplessly as she smiled and leaned in to brush a fleeting kiss against his lips.

"You know why..." she replied sincerely, with a haunting honesty in her eyes that hinted at her own struggles to accept her feelings. But she had accepted them, and the tenderness in her touch was shocking to her former friend and even more recent enemy.

Skye leant in towards him once again, her eyelids fluttering as this time he helped her close the distance, ignoring the nagging voice in his head that told him she deserved better. But he paused before their lips could touch, earning a sigh from the woman still enclosed in his arms.

"Skye, I..." he faltered.

She stared him straight in the eyes, as if recalling every moment of joy and sadness that had ever existed between them.

"You're not a good man, I know. But... You're trying to be."

Skye considered his actions in the last six months - how he had repeatedly risked his life to prove himself to the team - and more importantly, to her.

"...And maybe that's enough right now," she conceded, also recalling her own betrayals and the issues that had almost split the team apart in the last year that were in no way connected to Grant Ward. They all had their secrets. They had all made choices that had hurt others.

She smiled as his fingertips drifted hesitantly over the curve of her cheekbone."I guess it's all any of us can do... Try to make the right decisions."

Ward gazed at her as if every hope and dream he had ever had were held in her eyes, and he cocked his head as he stared at her, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Skye?" he checked, realising that if he were to lose her again, he would be irrecoverably broken. She had to be certain - he had to know that she wanted this as much as he did.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation, and he couldn't help but smile at the gesture and the familiarity of it. Sometimes, she was just the girl in the van again; wilful, impatient, buoyant, and utterly charming. It was in those moments that he found himself falling in love with her all over again.

"I thought you were a man of action, Ward," she teased, kissing the pad of his thumb as it drifted repeatedly across her plump lower lip.

She smiled seductively, holding his equally lustful gaze for only a second more, before he finally crossed the distance and pressed his mouth forcefully to hers.


End file.
